


Snapshots

by evewithanapple



Category: That Inevitable Victorian Thing - E.K. Johnson
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 17:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16858069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evewithanapple/pseuds/evewithanapple
Summary: Helena keeps a record of her family.





	Snapshots

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lilith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilith/gifts).



Kensington Palace announced this morning the birth of Princess Victoria-Helena, daughter of heir apparent Princess Victoria-Margaret and her husband, August Callaghan. Both mother and child are reported to be in excellent health and will be greeting the press in front of St. Mary’s Hospital later this week. The infant princess has been named for Princess Victoria-Margaret’s lady-in-waiting Helena Marcus, who is also widely assumed to be the child’s prospective godmother.

\- BBC News

* * *

 

 “Are you clipping articles again?” Margaret asked as she came to stand behind Helena. “I hope you know it’s a fool’s errand.”

“Hardly,” Helena said, as she smoothed the latest picture over a patina of glue in her scrapbook. Nellie’s second birthday party had been held the week prior, and the press had been permitted to attend in a limited capacity. They had risen to the occasion by snapping as many photos as possible, aided and abetted by August who had carried Nellie around the room with a wide grin, showing her off to anyone who wished to see her – which was, of course, everyone.

Margaret snorted. “Given the number of articles written about us, cataloguing them all would be a full-time job. You could fill a book with those written this year alone, and it’s barely June.”

“I’m judicious in my choices.” Helena gave the photo a final pat, satisfied that it was firmly attached and wrinkle-free. “And we _have_ given them a good deal to talk about this year. Your sister’s marriage, your parents’ anniversary, your pregnancy, all the new hospitals you’ve opened – I’m sure the press has been run ragged trying to keep up.”

“I can’t say I especially pity them,” Margaret said mildly, but she smiled as she said it. “And that reminds me, I need to go and check with Sophie regarding my dress for this afternoon. She assured me it would be pressed and prepared by the time I needed to get ready, but you know I like to make sure.”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Helena said. She reached up to where Margaret’s hands rested on her shoulders, covering one of them with her own. “You ought to be resting.”

“I’m perfectly healthy,” Margaret pointed out. “My doctors told me as much just last week. Besides, the clinic was good enough to christen itself after me – the least I can do is put in an appearance for their grand opening.”

“You funded them _and_ championed their cause,” Helena said, “so one might say it’s only right that they take your name in return.” Still she knew Margaret was right. Over the past five or so years, she had been outspoken on the topic of making fertility treatments available to all members of society – part and parcel of her own carefully publicized need for invitro fertilization in order to conceive Nellie – and so clinics like the one opening that afternoon held Margaret in high regard. And as her second pregnancy was just beginning to show, the opportunity for publicity was too good for both her and the clinic to pass up.

“If I can’t couch my reluctance in concern for your welfare, then I might as well admit to being selfish.” Helena squeezed Margaret’s hand. “I’d much rather keep you here with me all day.”

“Keep me here in bed, I assume,” Margaret joked, though she was just as much – if not more – culpable in that regard as Helena was. After the early months of morning sickness had passed, she’d found her sexual appetite positively voracious. Helena hadn’t slept in her own bed in weeks.

“I certainly wouldn’t object,” Helena said. Margaret leaned down to kiss the top of Helena’s head, but Helena turned towards her and caught her mouth instead. Margaret’s unbound hair tickled Helena’s cheek as they kissed, and Helena let one hand drift up under the fold of Margaret’s robe to cup one of her breasts. Margaret made a soft noise into her mouth, deepening the kiss.

The moment was abruptly broken by the sound of a thump coming from the direction of the nursery. It was followed by a doleful wail.

“I suppose Nellie’s up from her nap,” Margaret said with a sigh, straightening up and pulling her robe back into place. “I’ll get her.”

Sure enough, when she opened the nursery door, she found Nellie sitting on the floor beside her bed, wearing an expression that was more aggravation than injury. They’d started putting her in a proper bed – albeit one with guardrails – once she’d gotten into the habit of scaling the bars of her crib. The trouble was, she hadn’t abandoned the practice in her new environment, and they were woken most nights by the sound of Nellie pattering across the floor after she’d escaped the tyrannical confines of bedtime.

“We ought to put a roof on that thing,” Margaret remarked. As soon as Nellie saw her, she reached both arms out towards her, bottom lip quivering pathetically. “I suppose that would make it a cage,” Margaret continued as she scooped her daughter up, “but I’m at a loss as to what else would make you stay put.” Nellie, entirely oblivious, snuggled happily into Margaret’s arms. Deciding that Nellie might as well stay up now that she was awake – for she certainly wouldn’t submit to being returned to bed – Margaret turned back towards the sitting room where she’d left Helena.

As soon as Nellie saw her second mother, her eyes lit up, and she began to wriggle wildly in Margaret’s arms. “Elna! Elna!”

“She will have her favourite,” Margaret remarked, passing Nellie to Helena. Helena scoffed a bit as she kissed Nellie’s forehead, but didn’t bother denying it. Nellie would happily cozy up to any one of her parents, but given the choice between them, she would almost always go to Helena. Margaret wasn’t sure if it was because she was Helena’s namesake and goddaughter, or simply because Helena spoiled her the most rotten of the three of them. Perhaps both.

“No, no, mustn’t touch,” Helena said, pushing the pot of glue out of Nellie’s grip. Before she had a chance to shriek in protest, Helena diverted her attention. “Here, would you like to see this?” She flipped the pages of her scrapbook. “Who do you suppose that is? Do you recognize her?”

Margaret leaned over Helena’s shoulder to look. The photo she was pointing to wasn’t from a newspaper – August had taken it himself. It was about a year and a half old now, dating from when Nellie had been six months old. It showed Helena seated at the nursery window in a rocking chair, baby Nellie nestled against her breast. Margaret remembered the evening that photo had been taken; she remembered the light from the sunset spilling through the window, haloing the crown of Helena’s head and lighting the wisps of hair that had escaped from her braid to gather around her neck.

“I’ve always loved that picture,” Margaret said. “You look so beautiful in it.”

Helena snorted. “I certainly didn’t feel beautiful. It was when Nellie was teething, do you remember? None of us had gotten any sleep for weeks.” She turned another page, addressing herself to Nellie. “Look, there’s your mama and papa. You’re not _in_ this picture, exactly, but . . .”

Margaret groaned as soon as she saw which picture Helena was pointing to. “Of course you saved that one,” she said. “I think you enjoyed that entire incident more than is decent of you.”

“It was excellent publicity,” Helena said solemnly, though a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. It had come about a month from the end of Margaret’s somewhat precarious first pregnancy – she’d been overtaken with a dizzy spell at a social function, and swooned mid-conversation with the Japanese ambassador. August had been close enough to catch her before she fell, and the resultant photograph had decorated the front page of the newspapers for a solid fortnight. The caption – which Helena had been thoughtful enough to paste beneath the photo – read HER KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOUR. It had, admittedly, been good for their public image – proof positive that she and August were very much in love. And really, the press hadn’t been that far off; he _had_ fussed over her enormously in the days following. It’s just that he’d done so in conjunction with Helena, a detail that none of the papers were aware of.

“At least Mr. Koizumi was understanding about the whole thing,” Margaret said with a sigh. Embarrassment aside, there were far worse things than being fussed over by one’s husband and one’s lover. “I hope I can refrain from swooning again until August returns from Hong Kong. I’m sure he’ll be endlessly cross with me if I injure myself.”

“Not nearly so cross as he’d be with me for allowing it,” Helena said. She bounced Nellie up and down on her knee, who squealed happily. “Speaking of, much as I hate to bring it up, it _is_ almost noon.”

“Is it?” Margaret glanced at the clock. “Oh, blast. I’ve got to go find Sophie.”

“Go ahead.” Helena stood Nellie balanced on her hip, and kissed Margaret quickly. “Say goodbye to Mama, Nellie. She’ll be back later this afternoon.”

“Byeeeeeeee,” Nellie cooed, waving with both hands. Once Margaret left the room, however, her smile fell away into a pout. “Mama?”

“Don’t worry.” Helena gave Nellie a squeeze. She’d been more fractious than usual over the past week, probably owing to August’s trip to Hong Kong. “She’ll be back soon, and so will your papa. You’ll have all three of us tpgether before you know it.” Helena was struck anew by how lucky they were; not just in their romantic arrangement, but in that there was always at least one of them nearby to tend to Nellie when she needed them. Their daughter would never want for affection.

“Now,” she said, giving Nellie a little bounce, “why don’t we get you dressed, and then we can call your papa on the tablet. It should be just before dinnertime there, which means he’ll be getting ready in his rooms. Would you like that?”

“Uh-huh,” Nellie said agreeably. Helena smiled to herself as she carried Nellie into the nursery. In a few months, Nellie would have a brother or sister to share her parents with; doubtless it would be an adjustment. But Helena had no doubt that they’d all manage to rise to the challenge. If their lives had proved nothing else up to this point, it was that their family had more than enough love to go around.


End file.
